Hello Stranger
by CalmMango
Summary: AU. Bubbline fluff. Marceline, lead of the hottest band on campus, and Bonnibel, intelligent science major, meet in an odd set of circumstances. Though their friendship grows, their lives soon become riddled with haunting issues from their pasts. Can they make it out together or turn into the strangers they once were? Rated T for slight language, alcohol & kinda adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, peeps! I made an update on the chappie (AND STILL AM) and are making plenty more one-shots for your eyeballs pleasure! _(IDK that sounds gross sorry) Also, the scene is inspired by this AMAZING short anime, "Say I love You" Check it out on Crunchyroll!_**

**_Here is teh link for the second ep. in which its in at the end (watch the first tho) say-i-love-you/episode-2-fried-chicken-flavored-613751_**

**_And the artist who did the cover art is by Ipodger on tumblr! Great art, checks it out! (and yes I photoshopped it a bit to fit the story. I just can't help myself! Nerp.) _**

**_UPDATE: I'm continuing this after a long hiatus. Check in every 1-2 weeks for a good 'n long new chappie._**

**__****_So R & R ma peeps! I loves'em :D_**

**_-CalmMango_**

* * *

"You guys are so stupid!" Marceline laughs, doubling over. She holds her chest as her body wracks with joy. Keila falls out of her chair and onto the floor in chuckles.

Guy pouts but smiles nonetheless. Bongo taps out a beat on the cluttered table with a grin, shaking his head. The group of friends are at the biggest party of the year, and basically are the center of it all.

Marceline walks off shaking her head at her goofy friends and makes her way through the tight crowd to get some drinks like a pro. Plenty of girls look her over as she makes her way through with a lusty stare. Heck it's flattery, in the rocker's eyes.

Of course, even more guys give her what she called, 'that stare' where they bit their lip and stand a bit taller, showing more of their muscles. She pushes her way not forcefully, but with experience, moves with the crowd. A guy she passes that's in her philosophy class rubs the stubble on his face and gives her the once up and down.

She glances at him, and gives her usual flirtatious wink and slight smile. He literally swoons over her after that, eyes getting a dreamy look.

She used to keep her hands up to her chest when she was new to the scene, trying not to touch anyone in any way more than necessary. But with the practice and bouts of confidence, she strides over, feeling plenty of stray hands over her body in quick touches.

Her mind flashes back to once where a guy got too handsy and grabbed her butt. She froze and all of his friends high-fived him for getting closer really than anyone else. Then before he could say anything else, he was knocked out cold on the floor, nose bleeding freely. She smirks to herself when she remembered them all staring like idiots.

"_Don't you ever touch me like that and expect not to get little closer to death" She spits and turns back around, hair flying over her shoulder. Everyone cheers and the frat boys carry their KO'd friend out embarrassed._

However, she doesn't do anything of the sort. Of course, plenty of girls and guys would die to sleep with her, or even a kiss. But Marceline's always kept to herself, and yeah, sung songs about plenty of dirty things, but never even kissed someone in public. But that's about to change, whether she knows it or not.

She grabs a beer for an already drunk Guy, a ginger ale for Keila and Bongo, and a cherry soda for herself. Another thing: The queen never gets drunk. Ever. It's quite a feat, much to everyone's distain.

She's never touched a drop. There are so many theories and rumors to her secrets and quirks, but no one really knows the answer, even her closest friends.

She makes her way back with more half glances and winks in between. The table is in the corner, and is probably the only not crowded part of the house. Guy shoots her a grin; his pupils are already dilated and he goes for the beer.

Marceline holds it back uncertainly and hands him water from a nearby table, dropping off the alcohol. "Calm down man. You so can't hold your beer. You're already drunk!" Guy goes to protest but Keila makes him drink the water.

Bongo tells another story about him waking up in a coffee shop at 7 in the morning with a guy in a zebra costume and no shirt, but she doesn't pay attention. It's a fun night, but Marceline Abadeer just isn't feeling it.

Keila, as her all-time best friend, immediately notes her distance. "Hey, you okay?" Marceline nods and manages a smile, which isn't hard around the cheerful girl. "Yeah, I'm just gonna get some air."

Marceline downs some more of the soda and makes her way back through the crowd. Her gray eyes, through the caresses and deep stares, are caught by a flash of pink going down the hall. Intrigue takes the better of her and she follows, taking a while to catch up.

When she makes it to the corridor, there's nothing except a few stragglers making out of drunk as fuck, passed out on the floor. No pink.

She sighs for some reason and goes to go back outside. Under the cool moon and also crowded lawn, she looks up at the stars. Her feet carry her through the groups of people grinding over each other and she ultimately decides to go home. Glancing back at the house a couple blocks away, she texts Keila : _ Don't get drunk. Imma go home tonight and get some shut eye. Also to get my head in the mojo. Have fun and See ya at the concert tomorrow –Marcy _

She sends it and quickly types up another under the dim streetlight after an afterthought. _P.s.: Make sure Guy drinks no more beer and gets some more water in him. Can't play if hung over :P- Marcy_

She continues to walk along the pathway, kicking some rubble from under her shoe. Her phone bleeps and she see's Keila has texed back. _Gotcha. Stay safe. Feel better Marcy, cause you seem down. Love ya- Keke_

Marceline shoves her hands in her back pockets. It's about 11pm at night. Her brain for some reason drives her to the local mini mart. "I feel like some ice cream and a movie. Yeah." She says to herself and buys pint of Mint Cherry Chocolate Chip. Her eyes wander through the place and she grabs a hand-held basket to fill with some popcorn, and some more candy. Any parent would have a heart attack if they saw her now. She smiles to herself at the thought and goes in the small line to be rung up.

However, going through an aisle, she passes a girl sitting crossed legged on the floor with a tear stained face. Curiosity gets the best of her like always as she pretends to look through the chips nearby as she listens to her.

Her voice is soft and gentle, retaining a perfection of grammar. Her intelligence shows through bright when she mutters to herself frantically, "Glib globbit, please pick up!"

"Doesn't like to curse… hmmm" Marceline thinks at the sound of her made up curse words and grabs a bag of pretzels. The girl presses a few buttons before picking up the phone and bringing it to her ear. "Finn? I-I need you to come to the s-store now! I-I can't leave and-"A dial tone interrupts her, stating how her voice message is finished. She holds her face in her hands, pink book bag by her side.

Marceline looks at her with the chance given. She has light pink hair, nicely done so that it fits. For her at least. Hot pink jacket and white jeans with guess what? Pink flats. "This girl really loves pink" She mutters and catches a glimpse of her face when she looks up at the ceiling.

Beautiful, is all she can think. Not like other girls or guys, who are hot, or sexy. Beautiful, and pure. Her cheeks are lightly dotted with freckles and her eyes, bright blue, like the ocean. The girl catches her staring and shut inwardly curses. Forcing herself to walk over like it was planned and crouches down, she says, "Hey, you okay? I heard you talking on the phone and sounding kinda depressed."

"_Her eyes are better up close. I could get lost in them forever_" she thinks while the other girl looks shyly at the ground. The silence is so long, that she finally thinks she isn't going to reply, but right when she's about to get up, she barely hears a mumble. "It's nothing…"

Marceline gives a lopsided smile and gets on the floor with her, crossing her legs also. The rocker is naturally tall, at a 5'10, so sitting she still wasn't eye level with her. "Well, if I asked, then it must be something to me." She states, setting her things to the side. Blue eyes watch her oddly.

"It's personal" She says then. Marceline leans forward to look into her eyes.

"I'm a stranger. You can't get any more impersonal than that."

"It... it's a long story and I don't want to waste your time. You most likely have someplace to be."

Marceline continues to smile, scooting a bit closer. Their knees are touching. "I just left a party to go home and eat ice cream. I've got nothing to do and plenty of time to waste." A thought occurs to her.

"I don't really know you and if you could even help anyway." The pink girl finishes, looking blankly up at the chips above her head. Marceline sticks out her hand.

"Well, let's get to know each other. Then maybe I could help. I'm Marceline Abadeer."

The girl stares at it for a while. Slowly she takes it and says with a small smile, "I'm Bonnibel Beckman."

Marceline shakes it and thinks, her heart beating a bit faster, _"Her hand is soft and warm…"_ Bonnibel pulls her hand away even slower, letting it linger before putting it back in her lap. Marceline clears her throat.

"So I go to the university with a musical studies as my major and business management as my minor. And…" She rubs her chin for more to tell about herself. "I like the color red for eating and for wearing. I'm in a band with my best friends in the whole world. I'm a party animal, but don't drink or do drugs. And I hate the sun too."

Bonnibel just stares at her and she nervously laughs, adding in at the end for reasons unknown, "I… Sometimes I just like to go outside and lie on the ground, and look at the stars or the clouds. No one knows why, even I don't. It's just…" She rubs her neck and looks at her hands. "Whenever I'm stressed or life isn't going right, it calms me. Stars let me know where I am and Clouds tell me the direction I need to go in, and how to react. Especially on windy days, because that's when they tell me how fast I need to go."

She meets her inquisitive blue eyes and laughs awkwardly again. "You must think I'm a weirdo. For rambling on and telling you the last part. I don't know why I did." Bonnibel slowly answers, voice no longer nervous, "No I don't. You're just interesting Marceline. Very interesting."

She clears her throat in way so adorable to Marceline and says, "Well, I also go to the University. I major in biological sciences and minor in psychological sciences; so you can say I really like science." Marceline holds back a laugh which makes the other girl smile. "I love the color pink for eating and also for wearing. I share room with my best friend Lady, and my other friends and I go out on what they call 'adventures' which always end pretty funny. I'm the definition of a nerd, but aren't really shy and antisocial as I should be."

Bonnibel smiles wider at the girl for maintaining her unofficial prompt exactly. "And I hate people who're straight and close minded to everything." The two sit silence for a moment and as expected, Bonnibel adds not meeting eye contact, "Every Friday night… I…" She pauses, hesitant, but continues.

"Every Friday night, no matter where I am, I find a way to go outside and lie down and look for planes. Since there's an airport near, I always find some, and I… send them love. You know? It's like, I don't know whose inside and what they're dealing with in their lives, but I send them it because we don't have enough today and everyone needs it. I like to think that they somehow feel it and go somewhere and do the same to someone else. Pay it forward in a way." Bonnibel meets her eyes for a moment before looking down. "No one I've explained it to gets it. I can't really explain it well enough for it to make perfect sense."

Marceline stares at her before smiling, because she _understands_ it in an odd way. They're quiet and a small intercom announces all last shoppers have ten minutes before the store closes. Marceline mutters quietly, "I get it in a weird way. You're just like giving them a feeling of brief happiness, you know? To know someone cares. It's probably the nicest thing to say or show someone, especially a complete stranger, 'Hey, I'm glad you're here, alive. I'll try my hardest to not hurt you and to make you smile."

Bonnibel's face, no longer hot from crying, turns a bit red and she smiles, a real smile. She practically beams at Marceline, a real smile that shows her white teeth. Marceline smiles back a goofy smile and leans forward. "You wanna tell me now?" Bonnibel's smile dims away and the other girl feels slight sadness to see it go.

She checks her phone to see a blank screen, and then sighs dejectedly. Her voice wavers when she asks, "Can you go check outside under a street lamp? Tell me if you see anyone." Marceline nods, leaving her things with the girl in the isle and goes outside for a moment.

Eyes scouring the dark street, she sees nothing, but eventually a dim light flickers on, the light of a lighter. The fire briefly exposes a man deep in his forties with dark eyes and stubble on his chin. His features are pointed and very intimidating alone. Marceline goes back to Bonnibel with a new realization.

"You're being stalked or something? There's some guy out there smoking with a black coat and hat." Bonnibel's eyes start to water and she shuts them again, bringing her legs up to her chest. Marceline crouches down next to her, closer than she was sitting before. The girl nods and tears run down her cheeks. "Globbit!" She somewhat curses to herself and Marceline sits awkwardly. Without thinking, she pulls her into a hug and Bonnibel buries her face into her shoulder.

Despite the depressing circumstances, she can't help but feel her heart beat a bit faster when she hugs the girl. It feels good and her hair smells of strawberries. However, her muffled sniffs bring her out of her thoughts.

"I was… I work at the local bakery/ candy shop, The Candy Kingdom. It gets busy from its location, but this man would keep coming in every day for almost two months. For a while I just thought he had a horrible sweet tooth, but one time he looked at me… in a way that really wasn't friendly." Marceline scoffs and asks into the head of pink hair, "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

She sniffs again and finishes, "That only occurred to me yesterday. I left my shift as usual today, thinking about telling my boss, Tree Trunks. I started to feel someone behind me and the guy… he kept following. I walked a little faster, thinking he was going somewhere, but he followed me the whole way! So I ran into here around 8 and he's been waiting outside the whole time. I've tried calling someone I know for help, but no one's picking up!"

Marceline pulls back and stands up. Bonnibel wipes her face and mumbles, "I'm such an idiot when it comes to certain things." Marceline just bites her lip and looks at her and picks up her bag, leaving for a corner of the store.

Bonnibel sighs dejectedly believing the girl had got her things and left. However, when cool hand presents itself to her minutes later she drops the theory. Marceline offers a lopsided smile and Bonnibel takes it, getting up. "I just went to go pay for my stuff. Let's go." It wasn't a question. The taller girl leans down, grabs her pink book bag, sliding it over her shoulder and makes her way outside. Right in front of the door, Bonnibel visibly stiffens. Marceline reaches down, and grips her hand, making a warm flush come over her cheeks.

"Just trust me…" she says in a whisper and opens the door to the chilly night air. Bonnibel bites her lip again, heart beating faster than before from the contact and lets her lead her outside.

The man immediately notices the pink haired girl and drops the cigarette, stomping it out under his foot. He begins to make his way over until her notices the other girl next to her. They seem to be talking. He steps forward with a frown, realizing the other one was making his task harder to accomplish. It's only when he's right in front of them that he notes their interlocked hands.

_What? _The taller girl has long straight black hair, going down to her waist, a dark coat somewhat open to expose a red plaid shirt, and black ripped jeans with red high tops. Everything about her screams rebel.

The smaller girl however, that is his target. And _she_ is just getting in the way.

Marceline pretends to not notice the man and after receiving which direction the girl's house is in, leads the way. Bonnibel noticeably is nervous and jumpy the whole time. Still, as they round another corner, the man continues to follow in the shadows. She bends down and whispers in her ear, "You cold?"

Bonnibel shakes her head, but her body shivers as a gust of wind blows over. Marceline stops and slide off her coat, letting the girl put it on. Bonnibel's face blazes red at this and nothing more is said. The man scoffs at the display of affection and follows closer. "They really can't be in a relationship… can they?" He says to himself.

They make their way toward the campus, crossing over the quiet grounds. Marceline risks a glance over her shoulder and sees the man only twenty feet away, back hunched low. Bonnibel sees this also and tenses up even more, walking stiffly. Near the middle of the center field, Marceline whispers, "Where's your dorm?"

Bonnibel says back, looking up at her briefly, "I live in the apartments." Marceline rolls her eyes and says quieter squeezing her hand, "Hey I'm supposed to be your _girlfriend _remember? What's your room number? I'm only gonna drop you off. You _trust me_ right?"

Bonnibel's throat goes dry for the thought of it and then remembers it's a trick to make the man leave. "Apartment 2a" Marceline glances back one last time before she lets go of her hand. Immediately after though, she wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close, making it easier to keep pace. Bonnibel can't get the blush to drop off her face with Marceline's arm around her, being so close.

They reach the door and she pulls out the key. Fumbling with it, Marceline looks over her shoulder and spots the man bluntly fed up with his secretive games, walking out in the open, under the dim lamplight. Bonnibel's breathe catches and she drops the key. Marceline says to her low enough that he can't hear, "Okay, I'm going get this creep to leave you alone. See ya later sometime Bonnibel. It'd be nice"

She bends down and puts the key in the lock and opens the door for her. The pink haired girl goes to walk inside and away from the nerve wracking situation when Marceline out of nowhere pulls extremely close by the arms, pretending to whisper in her ear. Then Marceline presses her lips on her softly, still holding her close.

Marceline feels the girl go rigid in her arms from the sudden contact, but lightly sigh. Bonnibel on the other hand feels her always active mind go blank. She can't describe the overwhelming feeling that raises and spreads throughout her whole body, making her suddenly warm, but enjoys it nonetheless.

Her hands move up to grip her shirt lightly, pressing her lips into her harder. Marceline smiles, a large goofy grin into the kiss, heart fluttering harder than ever before. She never wants the moment to end, even if it has only lasted mere seconds. Who would've thought, a _stranger_ of all people, would be able to make her feel this way?

The taller girl pulls back after a few seconds after feeling the message was caught across, still relishing about how soft Bonnibel's lips were. She throws her a smile before shoving her bare hands into her pockets and walking away.

Bonnibel stands there for a moment before smiling uncontrollably and walking into the house with her things. She takes one last look out her window and sees the girl stop by the man, him being only a few inches taller, barely. Marceline is tall.

Marceline examines his face and says blankly,"Why're you following my girl?" Of course it's a lie that they are together, but it feels right to say anyway. Nice to say Bonnibel is hers.

He sucks in a breath and spits in the ground, revealing a hidden switchblade from his back pocket. "I don't have time for this and these fucking games! I spent months getting her alone and you bitch just come out of nowhere and fuck over everything."

Bonnibel feels a presence behind her and sees a Lady with a weird look on her face. "Did I just see you kiss a girl?" Bonnibel feels her face heat up again and says, "Yeah. She… it's a long story. But this guy's been following me and she's talking to him now. Marceline." Lady looks out the window and gasps. "Oh my god he has a knife!"

Bonnibel's heart beats fast as she panics, fingers gripping the sill tightly. "Oh my god, Marceline.", she breathes and everything happens so quickly it takes the pair a minute to process it.

Marceline sees the 5 inch blade in the moonlight and her heart races. She wasn't expecting this. He goes to jab her in the face but she ducks, curving around to kick him in his junk. "SHIT!" he curses under his breath, holding his gut for a second. She takes the moment to step back and punch him in a heavy uppercut. Her fist becomes horribly numb in the chilly air, and hurts after the impact, but the man receives the worst of it.

He accidentally bites his tongue and blood spills a bit out of his mouth as his body falls to the ground. Marceline takes one last glance at the apartments and holds him by his collar. "If you ever go near her again, I promise to make sure your eyes don't open again. Ever" She says and drops him in the wet grass, stomping off in the direction of her own home, heart racing faster than before.

She takes one last glance over her shoulder at the apartment with a small smile, then trudges back. It's only when she reaches the edge of campus that she realizes: she gave Bonnibel her bags. But right after, with a laugh and a kick in her step, she also realizes: she _doesn't_ care. Load a little lighter, she skips the rest of the way home.

Lady closes her mouth and watches silently as the man lies on the ground, still not moving except for the occasional loud moan and holding his jaw. Bonnibel sits by the window as he slowly gets up and after one last look at the house, stumbles away.

"Who is Marceline?" Lady inquires after awhile, walking into the kitchen with bags she realizes then that aren't 're Marceline's. Did she leave them for her on purpose? Bonnibel bites her lip at the thought. She really doesn't know that much about her, when she thinks about it. "She goes here. I'm going to try and find her tomorrow." Lady shoots her a glance.

"I met her in a mini mart. Those bags of junk food are her anyway." Bonnibel cringes after realizing how bad that sounds. "Bonnibel, do you even know anything about her?" She sighs, with a hand on her hip, looking over the ice cream with a smirk.

"I know that she hates the sun, loves the color red, in her foods and in her clothing and in is in a band with her friends. When she kissed me…" Bonnibel looks off into the distance, trying to find the right words. "It felt right, you know? I've kissed boys before and it was okay but it was different with her. I don't know how to explain it right, but I think I have a crush. Or whatever it's called. Ugh."

Lady looks at her best friend, who's never talked about crushes and sappy feelings before without immediately changing the subject after. She doesn't know about this Marceline, but whoever she is, she must be something if she caught Bonnibel Beckman's eye.

"Okay you sap. Time for bed anyway, It's like 1am." Bonnibel gives a sleepy nod and sees a plane fly above the campus. She quickly closes her eyes and sends her love, but keeps a little for herself. She just might need it for once.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Hellos and Goodbyes**


	2. Chapter 2

**BLEERP…. BLEERP! BLEER-** Marceline smacks the alarm off with a quick flick of the wrist. Body sprawled lazily across the sheets, she moans, and then shifts again. Her cheek squishes against the cool pillow, leaving temporary lines. A faint female voice is heard in the background, but she ignores it, drifting comfortably back into sleep. 'This bed is so soft….'

The voice comes again, louder, but still garbled. Her wandering mind can't make out the words and she chooses not to put in the effort too. She tries to remember her dream. 'What was it?'

Scattered images play through her head, unidentifiable shapes, and blobs of color. It seemed blissful, sweet. Cavity-giving sweet. I want to remember, but I can't! She shifts through the colors in her mind until one comes brighter than the others: pink. A cold hand shoves her in the side, not her own, and she rolls over to ignore it. I'm so close… It has to do with pink, but what is it? Who is it?

Another shove and she pulls the cover over her head to complete darkness. Great for thinking. Another detail appears: A smile. A beautiful smile, so free and exposed, it warms her whole body the second she sees it. Marceline smiles to herself in the serene moment, shrouded in black. 'I love that smile, but who does it belong to? I've never seen it on anyone I know…A smile has never felt so good to see before.'

She feels herself coming closer, closer, and closer to the truth, the details becoming sharper, crisper and _clearer!_ Suddenly, at the exact moment she sees the girl's face, the covers are ripped off her body and ice cold water is dumped on her. She jolts up in a frenzy, tangling up in her wet covers and falling backwards to the floor.

Keila's face appears in her groggy vision with a smirk. "How'd you like that wakeup call? Its 9:30 and you have a class to get to at 10:30 Marce. I'm not gonna let you skip out again." Marceline doesn't reply, but only shivers slightly with a confused look. The fall swirls her thoughts as she wonders frantically, 'who is this girl?' The empty bucket tilts off the bed and falls right on her forehead with a hard smack.

"Ow, ow…" She mutters, but right at the impact, _she knows._

Keila nudges her awkwardly positioned body on the floor curiously. The raven-haired girl looks up at her with a goofy smile, the effect of her epiphany. "Hey, you cool? Why are you smiling? You dream about somethin' nice?"

Marceline, after staring into the distance at the blurry image of the beautiful, pink-haired girl, glances back at her friend. She mumbles happily, "Yeah, Bonnibel."

* * *

**Chapter 2:**

**Different Perspectives, yet Similar Mornings**

* * *

Bonnibel grins as the morning sunlight blooms over her face and across the room. The vertebrae in her back click into place as she stretches her arms upwards. Her body springs out of the pink sheets as she skips to the bathroom. Her face is rejuvenated, fresh, with a natural blush. She smiles herself and goes for her toothbrush. Something is telling her that today, will be a great day.

She brushes her teeth thoroughly, flosses, and swishes mouthwash around twice. It's hard work to get her teeth to stay in such a pristine condition, like all of her possessions, and she works harder to keep them like that. Her mind, however, in going through its daily remembrance of the current day's plans, tends to skip over something largely important.

Bonnibel walks into the kitchen, already dressed in her day's attire: a composition of a pink, white shorts and some pink high-tops. She glances at herself briefly in the hallway mirror and frowns for a moment. 'Not enough pink…Hm…"

"안녕하세요!", Lady announces, slipping lazily back into her Korean slang, stirring some scrambled eggs. "How'd you sleep?" She slides over to one of the stools near the counter with a grin.

She replies in sing-song tone,"Amaz-ing!"

Lady looks at her over her shoulder. "Hmm. Good dreams I see?" The younger girl rests her head in her hands with a pleasant sigh. Lady turns off the fire and fills some glasses with orange juice.

"You don't know the half of it." The glasses click as they make contact with the granite. Lady sets two plates with eggs and jelly-spread wheat toast along beside them.

"Spill the deets, then. 그리고 다른 모든" She says nonchalantly and picks up her fork. Bonnibel pauses before taking sip of her orange juice. "

I don't remember exactly, but it was bliss! I recall people laughing and joking around. Also… the color red. For some reason, I can't get it out of my head!" she finishes with and wider smile.

Lady drinks some of her juice with a nod and Bonnibel digs in politely into her eggs. "Also, thanks for the breakfast, Lady!" Lady swallows, and then waves her off with the shake of the head.

"괜찮아. I just followed our agreement, right? Then days I don't have morning class and you do, I make breakfast."

Beckman pushes her plate away, full enough. "Yeah, I know that, but it's nice to do." The Korean girl eyes her suggestively.

"You know who it was?"

She drinks the rest of her juice and gathers the dishes. "No… but they feel faintly familiar…"

Lady looks her over. "Well, you should hurry up and find out: It's 9:15 and your class starts in thirty minutes."

Bonnibel's eyes widen and she hurries to dump them in the sink. "Really?! " Running out the kitchen, she slings on her pink satchel and house key lanyard with cupcakes on it. Lady comes up beside her and props a straw colored fedora with a pink ribbon on her head.

"See ya!"

Bonnibel races out the door with a wave and begins her brisk walk across campus. "BYE!" She calls out over her shoulder. Lady shakes her head with a grin, and goes back inside.

* * *

Marceline inhales her bacon in seconds flat as she gathers her things frantically. Keila follows her around the house in her pajama's questioning her like there's no tomorrow. "-So you pretended to be her girlfriend? That was your plan? Why not 'hey, let's call the cops and not get ourselves killed?"

Marceline hops on one foot as she pulls on her crimson high tops. She glances at herself in the mirror near the door: grey plaid shirt and dark grey jeans with rips at the knee on one leg. Nice. "Yeah, um, actually, I really did like her and it worked out pretty good. I wasn't really thinking; I just wanted to hang out with her more. Scratch that: do like her. I hope I see Bonnibel again." She finds a stray comb and yanks it a couple times through her long black hair.

Keila groans. "Even though you beat him up, you could've really gotten hurt!" The older one offers a cocky grin.

"Did ya forget how I beat him up?" Keila shoots daggers from her eyes. She's not joking.

Marceline sighs, still trying to comb her wild hair. "Okay look. I'm sorry. But you of all people should know I can beat anyone's ass." The other's frown curves into a smile.

"Got it. But just so you know, you're late."

Marceline gives up her efforts and ties her hair into a pony tail. Keila takes a glance and plants a light grey cap with a cute design of a horse breathing fire over her messy locks."There, hair disaster done. NOW GO."

Marceline's green eyes glance at the clock. "It's ':45, so I got thirty minutes. Good, I can get some coffee." Marceline shoves her house key in her pocket, and pulls on her large guitar case over her back. "Love ya, Keke!"

Kelia grumbles as her friend hugs her and bolts out the door. "Don't do drugs or get yourself killed!" She calls out the door and the woman saddles her red bike. She gives thumbs up and pedals down the block.

* * *

Bonnibel steps up familiar pathway to the biological sciences department giddily. Her weight shifts from foot to foot in anticipation. The crisp morning air tickles her nose with a pleasant scent of fresh dew.

"Hey, Beckman! You ready for the first report?!", an excited voice yells. Looking over her shoulder, no one seems to stand out from the crowd to the girl. Looking through the waves of early-goers, one face pops out to be recognized. He runs over and pulls his satchel higher on his shoulders. Bubba Gambell.

"Yes! I've been working with chemical compounds and biological make-ups. How about you?"

He hops around, squealing. Bonnibel shakes her head at his antics, but stays to watch anyway. After his little dance, Bubba calms himself, but the goofy smile won't leave his face. "Okay… I'm working on certain psychological aspects and their take on particular foods, or in this sense, desserts."

She leads the way inside. "What do you mean?", Bonnibel asks absently.

Bubba follows, still rambling. "What I Mean' is how our brain reacts to certain stimuli if altered on formidable items, common objects, such as common foods! For a basic example, take a glass of water and add a deep coloring to it. It changes no flavor whatsoever, but if you don't inform the drinker of this, what will they think?"

The corridors are swept clean and polished, their shoes squeaking on the hard wood along with everyone else's. Bonnibel notes the silence before facing the boy. "Um… I don't know."

Bubba makes a weird gurgled noise in joy. His footsteps quicken and she has to keep up. "With a color, we already know, has a predispositioned 'taste' per-say! So, as an added variable, you add some fruit…"

Frankly, though she doesn't admit it, Bonnibel zones out. On a regular basis, Bubba is very easy to get along with. But… when he gets excited about something… he will not stop talking about it. Not for a while. Zoning out is a skill needed. She hums a song in her head as the turn another corner. The song's been playing around campus for a while, but the band hasn't really made an appearance yet. To her social crowd at least. The chorus has her slightly tap her shoe to the beat.

Another corner is turned into a wider hall. When an important sounding word comes up, she tunes back in. They're reaching the classroom anyway. "… when they drink it, it'll taste like a different substance then it really is! Isn't that fascinating?" Bonnibel puts the missing pieces together, and then gives a thumb up. Bubba smiles wider at the gesture and opens the door.

"WHERE IS MY BEAKER?! GAHH! "a voice yells out in the flurry of students. Unlike the clean hallway before, the floor is littered with multiple papers, spills of unknown substances, and the occasional person. "Shut up will ya? SOME people are trying to write a paper here!" a deeper one snaps from the desks. A body from on the floor jumps up with an armful of notes. He readjusts his glasses and waves at the two.

"Hey Bonnibel. Hi Bubba." Bubba steps up as a couple sheets from his messy grasp flutter to the floor. Bonnibel waves back.

"Hello, Odin." As his papers are returned, Bubba makes his way back to his area.

Odin scratches his hair, messy and out of it's neatly combed style. "Thanks Bub. I just finished my thesis for the progress check on future-"A loud beeping sound fills the commotion and he panics. "Sorry, that's my burner!" He scrambles back into the mob.

Anyone would mistake this scene for of a fight of… well… 'nerds'. The sudden loud noises, constant yells and frequent cries of frustration make for a stressful environment. An environment many would find impossible to concentrate. Something to strive to escape. But for Bonnibel Beckman, it is her escape. She smiles and slips through into the flustering group of bodies in lab coats.

Her workspace is covered in notebooks, many sticky notes of references, and stray test trays. Luckily, nothing is out of place or knocked over. Bonnibel slips on the white coat and her bulky wide frame spectacles. She pours one tube containing a purple concoction into a beaker containing a bubbling blue one. A bright pink puff of smoke forms. She grins in her success, writing something down. "SCIENCE!"

* * *

"SHIT!" Marceline curses as her long legs fly through the halls, ending with the girl slamming into a wall trying to make a sharp corner. Being late is a surprisingly not a normality for her; Music Class was strict on attendance. And..just to add on, this was her about to be the third latest time. Maybe she should anticipate Coffee shops with longer lines, next time. She skids into the studio, sneakers loudly audible. All heads turn her way as the double doors slam shut. Her body is still in the doorway; A blast of cold air tells the now appearing goosebumps on her skin that she's in the right place.

Her watch beeps. Thank Glob, she made it! Marceline allows herself inwardly fist pump. She straightens up for a moment, and then makes her way down the aisle. Amidst the faces of students with spiked up Mohawks, multiple piercings and overall rebellious appearance, she finds her seat. Plopping her stuff down, she sighs. Slowly, all the gazes return to the instructor.

He clasps his hands together seriously after running one of the two through his brown hair, streaked with a couple of strands of white. Marceline looks up at the humming air conditioner, moving her fingers to strum the memorized chords of a song on an imaginary guitar.

Mr. Petrikov's voice is deep and commanding. "Now… as all of you know… today is pre-exam's. One by one, you'll come up and replay the piece you've chosen to replicate the mood you've been given at the beginning of the month." Marceline frowns as someone with a limp white Mohawk on top of his head raises his hand.

"What if your mood sucks?" he asks and the room rumbles with snickers. Mr. Petrikov raises a brow. "Mine was queasy. How the hell do you write a song about being queasy?" More snickers and the occasionally loud guffaw.

Mr. Petrikov's lips quirk up in the corner, almost a smile. "Well, you should've thought about that and asked that question four weeks ago." The student's face goes red for a moment, with anger or embarrassment, no one is sure. He picks up his clipboard with a smirk. A SMIRK.

"Oh yeah, Redmin? You're going first." The music room is rumbling after that, and the student's face replicating his name perfectly. "Unless anyone wants to get their turn over with?" As murmurs break out, Marceline props her feet up on the back of the students chair in front of her and unzips her case. A hand suddenly grips hers and yanks it in the air.

Immediate silence follows. It takes her a while to process what just happened, but Mr. Petrikov's voice signals her thoughts to make sense of the situation. "Well, then Miss Abadeer. You're either brave, bold, or just stupid. We'll see after you show us your piece." The hand grasping hers lets go. The instructor collects his papers and moves to sit next to one of the students in the front row.

"Also, for being the first up, 10 more points. Just for the heck of it." He grins and everyone turns to her with amusement and envy. She swallows and whips around to stare back into similar eyes, but with mixes of reds and browns. Like the jungle. A smirk appears underneath the pair and her eyes narrow. Marceline stands up, but growls under her breath.

"Marshall Lee? What the hell?!"

He leans back in his seat and offers a hand out to shake. "Miss me?"

* * *

Bonnibel bites her lip as the clock ticks down. 45 minutes left. 20 minutes left. 5 minutes left. She prepares her paper work in a neat stack on her cluttered workstation, her results so far to the right. The decibels in the room are probably enough to make the deaf-students in the room across the hall wince. She chuckles briefly at the comparison, but then blatant concentration returns.

"I got this..I got this.." She hypes herself up as soon the professor is right next to her station. She goes to stand up straight, but he waves her back into her previous seat.

"It's all fine, Beckman. I know you're work will always impress ME if not others." He giggles and leans over her station, eyeing the many fizzing chemicals with glee. His feet swing in the air and Bonnibel smiles whole kindheartedly. Fixing his glasses once upon his stubby nose, he begins, "So what do we have here?"

"Well, I'm working on the process of zanoits and how they interact with the human's biological process of thought." Professor Toter strokes his white mustache, so much its comical. He seems to gesture, 'continue, I'm genuinely interested' somehow and she does.

"Well first I had to test the chemical..." She breathes and tries to pronounce the word correctly, speaking slower for a moment. "Zan-toit-it-ner, and its interactions to determine its possible purpose in this." She gives him the chart of different experiments run on the chemical and waits as he looks it over, the stroking of his facial hair becoming frantic.

A slow grin spreads across his plump cheeks. "So, Bonnibel, you don't have to show me everything yet, since this is just a progress check. But do tell, if you would, what are you trying to accomplish in the long term goal?"

Crud. Glib-globbit. Bonnibel curses inwardly and her hands unconsciously turn into fists. This is where most of her classmates laugh at her. Call her idiotic. Say it was all a waste of time. And she knows that if the Professor thinks the same way, her whole ability to research it will be shut-down, all resources taken away with the shake of a head. Not to mention a failing grade of an F on the project, thus making her fail the whole semester and good possibility of the class.

The pink haired girl musters all the confidence she can and sits up taller, flipping to the correct page in her notebook. She opens it and turns it for his bespectacled eyes to see. "I will be attempting sir, to make an AI, capable of breathing, living on its own free will."

The drawing shows a detailed sketch of a circular being with small dots for eyes, and tube like appendages for arms and legs. In the pace of it's brain is a simple formula, with many other components fixed into a sugary solution. His eyes instead glimmer with pure scientific fascination in silence as the minutes tick by.

Finally he says, eyes never leaving the book, "So how does this have to do with your studies? How do you intend to make this.. a reality?" Bonnibel swallows, but takes out a miniature safe from her book bag made of pure titanium. With a click of her key, it opens to reveal one densely packed and protected, test tube. She slides on glove to grasp the glass. Cautiously she takes a drop from a eyedropper, one drop, and puts it on a thin plastic tray to set under her microscope.

The professor hurries to get his step stool and bring it over to her station. He eagerly presses his eye to the viewglass and inhales sharply at the sight. Bonnibel smiles, pleased that she's one over his favor. "Those professor, are the organisms I like to call zanoits. And they are the only way this could ever be possible."

* * *

Marceline stands in front of the wall of stringed instruments, biting her lip. Mandolin's, guitars of electric and acoustic, violins.. Heck, almost a hundred were probably up there, she estimates. With all eyes on her, she quickly decides on the ukulele, it being the most practical and closest.

Marceline's legs shakes as she sits on the tiny black stool. 'Like really, why is this so uncomfortable?', she wonders aimlessly. 'My couch is better than this!' "Miss Abadeer!" He cuts in, as if sensing her inward conversation. "Anytime now. Your mood as I recall was, tranquil, as in meaning relaxed and at rest." He looks around the auditorium, catching all stray eyes and attention. "Also, I'd like to add if any of you who went for the preconceived extra credit of including the meaning for the word nostalgic in your song, please come up in front."

A random group of kids got of from their individual seats and move to sit upfront. Marceline scoffs and tunes the instrument in her lap. Truthfully, she waited til the last second to make her own project. Heck, most of it wasn't even done.

She meets Marshall's gaze and he grins knowingly. But still, she works best under pressure and at improvising. She waits as a thought pops into her head, an addition to her quick song and jets her hand up.

Mr. Petrikov of course blinks, annoyed. "What is it?" She grins wickedly. "I did that too. The extra credit-whatevers. Nostalgic means to look back on the past or somethin', right?"

Clearly displeased with her grammar, he says sharply back, "Yes. In a way, it does. So I'll put you down for that then. Don't disappoint."

A nod in response. Her fingers move onto the correct placement. "My short song is called Interlude Holiday." A quirky, light tune associated with a calming day at the beach echoes through the room. Her eyes find Marshall's and he offers a thumbs up, nodding his head to the beat.

Soon plenty join him, it being extremely enjoyable. Even the instructor allows himself, she finds smugly, to tap his foot lightly. His pen scribbles frantically on the pad. Slowly her voice joins in, wavering at first, but becoming solid after a few seconds.

_Now I can move on to facing,_

_Big girl problems no more._

_High school drama graduated,_

_With honors!_

_Ah I'm drinking coffee while I,_

_Read the paper; I've been,_

_Savin' money eatin' only Top Ramen!_

_Oh, Oh, Oh, Ohhh-oh!_

_Now I get a holiday!_

_Wherever I go, I might stay._

_I don't plan on comin' back..._

_Ever, If I can help it!_

She breathes and looks around quickly. This is where she got stuck. Quickly making up for a finish, she repeats the chorus, slowly fading out lower and lower.

_Now I get a holiday,_

_Think I'll stay._

_Holiday,_

_Think I'll stay._

She ends when it becomes no longer audible and sets the ukulele down in her lap. It's quiet in the room, and everyone looks confused for a moment. To make up for it, she finishes with a loud strum. It does it's job to show she's done, and an acceptable chorus of people start clapping. Marshall, of course, would be the one to whistle and say, "Marceline your voice is so hot!"

A couple of people look around to see who it was, but then more wolf whistles come out too by others. Murmurs of agreement appear and Marceline holds her forehead, bangs covering her eyes. She grins and shakes her head, thinking, 'I'll so have to get him for that later.'

Suddenly, a distant bell tong sounds in the distance and her head snaps up. 11:30 already?

Mr. Petrikov clears his throat and speaks up, walking over to the girl with an unusual smile placing his features for the students, but to her, is usual. "Well, well, that was something. Although I wish there was more, it was good as a short melody as well. You get both extra credit points along with an A on the assignment. Nice job working with such complicated-"

"Yeah, yeah thanks! I have to go!" Marceline blurts out with a smile. Quickly setting the instrument back in its place, she runs over and grabs the paper out of his hand. He looks on confused. "Wh- I'm sorry, I don't think I understand what's going on here." Marceline swings her guitar case over her shoulder and runs back down the steps, pulling a strip of laminated paper out of her back pocket.

She blows her bangs out of her view and slaps it in his open palm. "I gotta go practice for tonight. See ya there," She leans in for second, "Simon". She spins on her heel and sprints back up and out the double doors, Marshall right by her side. He offers a half-hearted wave right before the doors obscure his view and symbolize their presence leaving.

Mr. Petrikov looks down to see the paper is a ticket to a performance in the nearby park, by a band called the Scream Queens. He has a brief goofy smile on his face, but as soon as he realizes where he is, returns to being strict. "Redmin! Your next." The groans of the boy ensures at his name being called. The instructor returns to his seat but gingerly places in his pocket. 'You know I will' he thinks to himself.

* * *

**You know the drill: I don't own anything, including the song. It's Holiday by Paramore. Short but sweet. Check it out. I DO own the story though; that's all MANGO right there :D**

**AND I think you guys need this quick sum-sum, due to THE HORRIDLY LONG break. It's also so it might make a few confusing things in here clear up about some new characters that I probably won't be able to fit in the chaps.**

**Mr. Petrikov: He's Simon Petrikov, an instructor at the University. He teaches a music art Class and an Archaeology class**

**-Has a preference for the cold. With the rebellious musical students, he is strict, so they call him secretly,"The Ice King"**

**-with his Archeology class, he's more laid back, easy-going and calm in demeanor**

**Professor Toter: I'll let you peeps guess who this guy is in Adventure Time. **

**-is extremely short, with white hair and a white mustache**

**-is know for being fun and happy(but can be scary as fuck if you don't take science seriously)**

**THATS IT FOR NOW! UNTIL NEXT UPDATE! FOLKS! R&R for meh, tell me whatcha think.**


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